The Waterline

On Wednesdays and Saturdays, I get out of the workshop to do repair estimates. Most of the time this involves a good part of the day in the car going from one place to another taking pictures of furniture. I've been doing this for a long time and there isn't much in the way of surprises when it comes to doing the evaluations. What’s different about each estimate, however, is the owner. There’s always a story to go along with their furniture.

I’m used to hearing these stories and actually really enjoy them. Some people love to tell about the relative that built the piece, how long it’s been in the family, or simply what a great deal they got when they bought it. For the past couple of years there’s been an added chapter to those stories. It usually begins with, “When we got back after the storm (Katrina)…”

Everyone has their own story about the whole Katrina experience. It’s become part of every day existence in New Orleans; it’s unavoidable. I should clarify that: it’s unavoidable for those of us who live here. I suppose if you’re in town for a convention and never make it past the French Quarter and Warehouse District that you’d never give the storm a second thought. After over two years, though, there have only been a handful of days when it didn’t come up in any given conversation. People need to tell their story. I used to schedule my appointments a half hour apart, but now allow a full hour (at least). The first 5 minutes is the furniture evaluation and the rest is hearing the stories.

For the longest time, I thought I didn’t really have a story. We were lucky in that we only had a little roof damage to the house and three trees that crashed into my workshop. In comparison to what so many others went through, we were lucky. My story, as it’s turned out, is what has happened since then as a result of the work I do. Even though there is no storm damage evidence around my home or workshop, I’m entrenched in it almost every day. I keep thinking it will get easier, but it doesn’t. It just gets smellier. Just when I think maybe I (and those doing what I do) have gotten through all the flooded furniture that wasn’t thrown out, a whole new wave comes in. For some people, I know it’s just not a priority until all other repairs have been done. For others, they’re waiting for that insurance settlement. Regardless of the reasons, the end result is that I’m the one faced with the challenge of resurrecting their treasures. That is my story.

Last Saturday I went out to the Lakeview neighborhood. I’ve been in and around that area many times, but hadn’t been back to this particular street since a year ago January. I’m happy to report that there has been amazing progress there. A lot of people are rebuilding and others have had their homes demolished. Keep in mind that this area got anywhere from 6 to 9 feet of water depending on the block. The last time I did an estimate in a home on this street, the items were so damaged that it was difficult to tell what they were before the storm. I anticipated the same thing this time and I wasn’t too far off. The armoire I evaluated was a jigsaw puzzle of faded, dirty parts. It was clearly well made; few parts had warped significantly and it wasn’t covered with stains from rusted screws holding it together. Next to the armoire were a bunch of dining room chairs – also in pieces – that looked more like a pile of old driftwood. None of this particularly surprised me, though. It’s become part of the job. I suppose if I hadn’t just finished rebuilding and restoring another armoire over the past month, I would have had a different outlook on this one. But the thought of going through all of that again (already) was not nice.

When I was driving away, I decided to take the long way to my next estimate instead of hopping on the interstate. I weaved my way through neighborhood after neighborhood full of gutted, empty houses. Every now and then, there would be evidence of one determined soul who had returned. I saw one of them, and it struck me.

Now, if you haven’t been to New Orleans in the past couple of years, you probably wouldn’t even think about the waterline that decorates every building in an area that flooded. At this point a lot of them have been washed off or painted over, but not all. I didn’t realize for awhile how much it had become a habit to look for the waterline every time I was driving around town. There’s something about those waterlines that can gnaw at you and remind you of Katrina’s wrath. So getting rid of the waterline is a big step forward for many people. Sometimes, however, it isn’t that easy.

I was driving through mid-city New Orleans when I passed a house with a distinct waterline tattoo. There was a guy with a pressure washer out front. He had that nozzle going full blast on that waterline and he wasn’t winning. I watched as he moved the stream back and forth across that line trying to power it off. As he was doing that, he looked out at me when I was driving by. The look on his face was something I’ll never forget: beaten down, desperate, and exhausted. It was as if that waterline was the last thing in a series of battles he has fought. I bet he stayed there all day until he won.

Nails, Staples, Filler... Do-it-Yourself No-No's

It never ceases to amaze me how many ways people can find to "repair" their furniture. Every now and then I go through a period where it seems like all I'm doing is pulling out nails, prying out staples, or chipping away a dozen different kinds of glues on top of each other. The past few weeks have been like this. I've had an extraordinary amount of repair work involving broken chairs, beds, and tables. After so many years of seeing the same things, it's time to lay out a few ground rules for those who like to perform do-it-yourself repairs.

First, a word about nails. If there wasn't a nail there to begin with, don't put one there. Chances are the person who made the chair or table knew what they were doing and didn't plan on someone else driving a nail through the joint to make it better. Nails have a purpose, and it's not furniture repair under most circumstances.

More nails will not solve the problem, but more than likely damage the wood and create an unsightly mess.

I could say the same thing about staples. While it may seem smart to use a staple to keep a cracked joint together, it's a big no-no. Not only does it look bad, but over time it will pull apart. Often staples will split wood, too. Don't use staples. They're fine for holding in upholstery (sometimes), but otherwise they have no business in furniture repair.

Staples are a lazy repair that look bad and function poorly.

Glue is the woodworker's choice for keeping joints together, and different glues are used for different purposes. Some joints can be repaired using conventional carpenter's glue, but others should not. If you're not sure, don't slop a random glue in there and assume that it's going to hold correctly. One thing I encounter a lot is a joint where someone has dumped in an enormous amount of industrial epoxy. Yes, it holds. And holds. And holds. It makes disassembly a major chore for the restorer and can often result in damage to the piece. For many antiques, hide glue is the glue of choice for the restorer. It allows a long open assmebly time, holds strong, and is easily dissolved with little effort should the piece need repair later. If you do choose the appropriate glue, apply it correctly and wipe off any excess. Hot glue guns are not for funiture repairs. It may be quick and easy, but don't do it.

The wrong glue and too much of it.

Now a word about wood filler. It seems like a great idea to fill a crack or damaged area with wood filler, and that's indeed what it's for. But - you wouldn't believe how this simple material can create such ugliness. And - not all fillers are created equal. The wood filler a painter may prefer is generally not the wood filler a woodworker will use. If you're going to use filler, use quality material. Many fillers can be purchased pre-tinted in many colors and then sanded and blended in. Please, do not dump filler in, smooth it over with your finger and then leave it. Take the time to sand and finish properly. The results are worth it. Also - never use caulk as wood filler. I encounter this all too often.

This filler might have been effective if applied correctly.

Now, of course, this isn't an exhaustive list what you shouldn't do if you're going to repair your own furniture. It's always best to consult a professional, but I understand as well as anyone the desire to do it yourself. To insure that your repair lasts (and to make it easier for the next person who has to fix it), take the time to do it right or take it to someone who will. Don't drive a nail into your antique table. Don't screw a metal bracket into your grandmother's chair because it's getting weak joints. It's the wrong thing to do. Please... respect your furniture.

Today I pulled 38 staples out of a table leg and spent another half hour chipping out caulk and epoxy. This was after pulling out 14 nails. Guess how much of that was there originally? None of it! And none of it is there now. And it's strong and beautiful once again.

Let the Blogging Begin

I've finally entered the blog world. To some it may seem strange to blog about woodworking, restoration, refinishing, and furniture repair work - but this is my profession and in many ways my passion.

The nature of my work has certainly evolved in an unexpected direction over the past couple of years. I never expected to be so heavily involved with water damaged furniture, but that is unavoidable in post-Katrina New Orleans. In fact, the storm created a lot of business for me. It took me a long time to get comfortable with that idea since so many people suffered and lost so much. As time as passed, I've found (or at least convinced myself) that I am, in some small way, moving New Orleans forward towards recovery. Some people are building houses, cleaning up debris, etc., and I am bringing back the furniture.

It's such a small thing, but I am continuously enchanted by how attached people are to their furniture. I've been in a lot of houses that were completely gutted - just an open space interrupted by moldy 2x4's and that all-too-familiar smell Katrina left behind. Often the only things left in the house are a pile of furniture (or parts of furniture) that the owner managed to salvage. For many, these pieces are the only thing they have to connect them to life before the hurricane. As you can imagine, I've heard a lot of stories. I wish I would have documented them as I heard them as they have been truly fascinating. It has connected me with my customers in a way that I don't think would happen anywhere else. We're all moving slowly towards a sense of normalcy in New Orleans, and if a restored piece of furniture helps some get closer to that, then I've done my part.

For now, it's back to the wood shop. Every week is different here and presents new challenges. This week it's the restoration of a flooded armoire, refinishing an old dining set, and various small repair jobs.